The Bronx
Oslo, Hackney | 9 July
The Bronx. What a band.
Since their arrival as the only punk band worth giving two shits about over a decade ago, the Los Angeles collective have had their fair share of highs and lows. From their revered eponymous debut and poor selling yet brutally excellent second eponymous LP, to near bankruptcy, a Mariachi side project, and now apparent contentment as a hardworking hardcore outfit with two additional (albeit less impressive) eponymous albums to their name (in case you hadn’t realised, all Bronx albums are called The Bronx), this is a band who have stood up to every bit of shit that could be thrown at them and are still triumphantly screaming and laughing with their middle fingers raised in your face.
Less than 18 months ago, The Bronx toured the UK in a small van in support of their fourth studio album – a decent record, but not their finest. Tempers were fraying, and insecurity about what the future held for a band who were once just happy to be there causing a scene were evident. And yet, even in those dark days, effervescent frontman Matt Caughthran was able to put a smirk on the faces of his band mates and his audience through a simple joke, smile and yell – ultimately, whatever the circumstances, a Bronx show will always end up a triumph.
There’s no apparent reason for the two back to back midweek shows at Oslo Bar in Hackney, but we’re not idiots – if The Bronx come to a bar near you, you get yourself along, whatever the occasion. Tonight, they arrive on stage to the backdrop of some nice, bluesy, stoner rock before launching themselves into a furious rendition of Kill My Friends. But firstly, Matt instigates chaos by inviting the crowd to beat the previous night’s record of 30 seconds before the first stage dive. The result, obviously, is that the first stage dive occurs before a note is played.
It’s just a great, sweaty mess from then onwards. The brutality of Inveigh, History’s Stranglers, False Alarm and White Tar all provide beer soaking and crowd surfing, and all are played so tight and absolutely fucking slam. The songs off their 2013 album (Too Many Devils, Ribcage and The Unholy Hand) are all rightly responded to with enthusiasm, but it’s a fraction of the love shown to, for example, White Guilt, during which stalwart guitarist Joby Ford is the master of proceedings with the sleaziest of rhythm parts, whilst Ken Horne noodles over the top.
There’s no doubt that The Bronx are still living hard and rely on others maintaining a punk rock ethos for this all to be possible: Matt thanks Oslo Bar for allowing the band to live in the bar during the days around the two gigs and for keeping them fed and watered. And yet, after around a year and a half of touring their least successful LP, that enthusiasm for fighting the good fight is still there – they close with a pounding rendition of Heart Attack American during which it feels like you could have been watching the same furious band from any stage of their career.
We honestly have no idea what the future holds for The Bronx. What is this gig, even? The final tour of their fourth album? There were no new songs from a potential fifth. Whatever it is, just know this – when The Bronx come to your area, buy a ticket and go and witness one of the most potent forces in live music. They’re the best punk band in the world, and have been since day one.
– – – – – – – – – –
Words: Jack Bolter
CONNECT TO CRACK
